Mount Whitney looks beautiful from work this morning! :-)
{mis}Adventures in Sydney
I decided to go back to Sydney for a weekend because I felt that the jetlagged weekend I spent there was absolutely not sufficient—I missed out on stand-up paddle boarding in the harbour, hadn’t seen a show at the Sydney Opera House, and generally didn’t get enough of a feel for the city. In preparing for the weekend trip, I learned that the one and only company that does a stand-up paddle boarding tour of the Sydney Harbour had been completely booked up for this weekend for the last week or so… I guess they’re more popular than I thought! Also, the majority of hostel beds were booked and I was required to stay in the fancy hostel in the Rocks district. Oh darn, forced to stay in a hostel with rooftop views of the Harbour Bridge and Opera House. How will I ever survive?
I booked the 6:30AM flight from Griffith to Sydney and read on the web site that I only had to be at the airport 30 minutes early. I woke up at 5:30AM, got dressed, and checked the weather forecast for any last minute changes. It’s a good thing that I did, because the new forecast said that there was a 10% chance of rain that day (not bad… ) and a 60% chance of rain on Sunday. I added an umbrella to my backpack and was on my way to the airport!
After a short plane ride, I arrived in Sydney at about 8:00AM, exited the plane, jumped on the train, and was in Circular Quay by about 9:00AM. I followed the route to the hostel that I had printed from the web site (which included a lot of stairs!), and was at the Sydney Harbour YHA within 15 minutes. I asked about dropping off my bags until check-in was available, and was told that they had lockers for which I had to pay… so not only was this hostel about $15/bed more than the others, but I am also now required to pay $4 to leave my bag?! All I could think was that the view from the roof better be spectacular.
I met a girl the last time I was in Sydney who told me that she went to a zoo (and couldn’t remember the name of said zoo) where she was able to pet a kangaroo. She even showed me a photo of her crouched down next to a huge red kangaroo! She said that she didn’t take a ferry to the zoo and that it was relatively close, so from this I assumed that she had gone to the Wildlife Zoo in Darling Harbour. Before leaving Griffith, I researched the Wildlife Zoo and saw that they had a Kangaroo Walkabout—this sold me on the idea of going. Also, they had a “cuddle a koala” experience, but it turns out that it only involves petting a koala rather than holding one. It is now illegal to hold a koala in NSW, and the only states in Australia that still allow it is SA and QLD.
Once at the zoo, I walked through and saw a lot of cute animals that I had never seen before, but was still the most excited about petting a kangaroo. I excitedly entered the kangaroo walkabout, but quickly discovered that guests are not allowed to leave the path, and that although petting the kangaroos is allowed, they must come up to you. Unfortunately they were all cuddled in a corner very far from the path. I was disappointed by not being able to touch a kangaroo that day, but I still got to see a lot of other animals, including a massive salt water crocodile and the first koala I had seen in Australia so far. J
I left the zoo in search of a microbrewery that I had read about called Lord Nelson Brewery. Google maps said it was a 20 minute walk, so I began my trek. It began sprinkling… then raining… then pouring less than half way from the zoo to the brewery and although I had had the foresight to bring my umbrella all the way from Griffith, I had forgotten to take it out of my backpack before leaving it at the hostel that morning. I found myself standing under an overpass with nowhere to turn except into a heavy rainstorm. I had heard that downpours in Sydney are relatively frequent and that they usually don’t last long, so I patiently waited for the rain to stop… for 15 minutes. Finally, I was tired of waiting and decided to make a run for it. Mind you, I was wearing ballet flats—NOT tennis shoes. A few minutes into my run to the brewery, I began getting blisters on the back of my feet because they kept slipping into and out of my shoes as I was running (which included a very tall cement staircase to run up). By the time I finally got to an awning where I could stand for a few minutes, the blisters on my feet had started to bleed. A taxi pulled up, and even though I thought the brewery was only a block away, I decided to take the cab because it was still pouring rain and I had no idea where it was located on the following street. It turns out it was on the very next corner, so I ended up paying about $10 to go one block. Oh well, I had finally arrived, the bathrooms had blow dryers (where I promptly dried my sweater and hair), and the beer was tasty. I also ended up talking to the head brewer for a bit about his brewing processes and the various microbrews in the area, which was an unexpected and pleasant surprise.
The storm raged on for about an hour longer while I sat drinking my beer and reading The Hobbit in the warm safety of the colonial era building. Once the weather finally cleared up, I went in search of lunch and a beer café I had read about. It turns out that where I was headed was only just around the corner from the zoo, so I could have avoided some blisters had I gone there first. I walked into Redoak Boutique Beer Café, sat at the bar, and decided on a beer with the help of the insanely helpful bartender—not only did he recommend the Special Strong Ale based on my description of what I was in the mood for, he gave me tastes of a few of the other beers on tap as well. I ordered the vegetarian pizza (which was delicious after a morning of not petting kangaroos and running in the rain in my ballet flats) and tried another beer—The Redoak’s Saint Nicholas—a belgian triple that was phenomenal. The girl who was sitting next to me at the bar was actually there specifically to try the Saint Nicholas because a friend of hers had recommended it so highly.
I left the café full and happy and set off to finally check into the hostel and get prepared for the evening. The Sydney Opera House has something called “student rush,” which allows students to get performance tickets for much less than they retail for. The catch is that you have to show up one hour before the show, completely ready for your evening, and hope that there are still tickets available. I brought my old student ID card with me and decided to be a “student” again for the weekend and was going to try to see La Boheme. I got to my room at the hostel and everyone else staying there was still gone for the day. I quickly got dressed and ready to head over to the Sydney Opera House, which was about a twenty minute walk away. Normally, I’d wear my flats if I was going to be walking twenty minutes, but since I had pretty crazy blisters and cuts on the heels of my feet, I settled on wearing heels so that my feet would be rubbed in different places—the only other choices I had were tennis shoes or flip flops, which wouldn’t look very good with the dress I was planning on wearing for the evening.
I excitedly waited in the ticket line at the Opera House, where someone who didn’t work there asked me if I wanted to buy a ticket to see La Boheme… I don’t know why I was so shocked that there were ticket scalpers at the Sydney Opera House… I said no and continued waiting in line like a good girl. When I reached the front of the line, I learned that there were still tickets available for the evening’s showing of La Boheme. Apparently, though, they require an ISIC (International Student ID Card) because there are people that pretend to still be students even though they’re out of school in order to get discounts. Shame on them! The lady I was speaking to talked to her supervisor and was able to make an exception so that I could buy the ticket, so YAY! Ticket in hand, I walked to the Joan Sutherland Theatre where the show was to be held, purchased a program and glass of sparkling wine, and waited patiently for the doors to open. My seat was fantastic (I looked up the normal retail price of my seat—$306!), the show was amazing, and the voices were stunning. I am still completely in awe of how talented the cast and director were. Choosing La Boheme for the first opera I’ve ever seen was perfect—I would have seen it anywhere. The fact that it was at the Sydney Opera House was just icing on the cake.
I woke up on Sunday morning without a clue to what I would do for the day. All I knew was that this was likely my very last day in Sydney before I come back to Australia in a year, two years, five years, or longer, and my flight was to leave at 6:30PM. I went downstairs to talk to the person working the desk at the hostel and from our conversation decided that Manly was going to be the destination for the day. I quickly got dressed, checked out, and put my backpack into a locker before heading for Circular Quay to catch a ferry to Manly. I purchased my ferry ticket and had 20 minutes to kill before boarding, so I went in search of breakfast. Then I came across Royal Copenhagen Ice Cream and all ideas about a sensible breakfast went out the window. A friend had recommended Royal Copenhagen from when she was in Australia, and this was the first time I had seen a shop so naturally I chose ice cream for breakfast.
Not only were views of the harbour from the ferry breathtaking, I ended up sitting next to a woman who was more than happy to play tour guide. She pointed out things here and there, which included where Kirribilli House is (the prime minister’s Sydney residence), and Fort Denison. I arrived in Manly and went straight to a tourist information center, where I learned of the many options for fun I had while there. I chose snorkeling, since I hadn’t experienced Australia’s oceanic wildlife yet. I walked along the boardwalk toward the “good snorkeling” beach (Shelly Beach) and instantly felt like I was in a larger version of Newport Beach, CA. Once I got to the rental shop, I learned that it was $20/hour to rent snorkel gear, or $40 to BUY it—I now own a snorkel and mask. I swam around for a few hours in which time I saw fish after fish and endless amounts of kelp. I actually had to force myself to get out of the water when the time came because I was having such a good time. I had assumed that I got a pretty good amount of color on my back while snorkeling, but in no way felt burned, so I laid out for twenty minutes to even things out—the last thing I wanted was a tan back and a white front. Well, it turns out that what I did was develop a matching burn on my front, which proceeded to peel for the next two weeks.
After laying out in the sun, noticed just how late it had become and rushed over to the ferry station, where I missed the ferry by about five minutes and had to wait another forty minutes to catch the next one. I was running so late that I ran as quickly as I could back to the hostel to get my backpack after docking in circular quay, and then ran to the train station to get to the airport. I firmly believe that I looked scraggly and strung out while on the bus. I was freshly burned and covered in salt from snorkeling, and super nervous about missing my plane (which meant that my leg was twitching a bit as if I had had too much coffee and I was checking my watch every few minutes). If I saw me on the train, I wouldn’t have sat next to me.
The train arrived at the airport twenty minutes before the plane was scheduled to depart and I ran as quickly as I could to the Regional Express check-in counter, where my reply to the question “how are you today?” was a terrified one word: “LATE.” The lady asked which flight I was trying to catch, and when I told her, her response was “Oh, so you meant to be on that flight, did you?” and after watching me sweat for another excruciating minute or two, said “you can take a deep breath, the flight’s been delayed by thirty minutes.” I let out a long sigh of relief, got my boarding pass, went through security, and settled into the terminal waiting lounge until the plane was ready to board.
All in all, my weekend in Sydney was full of surprises and things seemed to go wrong at every turn, but I still had an amazing time. Just remember, when life gives you lemons, make limoncello!
